Determination
by outrostakes
Summary: 'Marceline carries on, soldiers on even, and braves the earth with all her determination.' In which a mentally ill teen tries to find herself in the world and oddly enough falls in love with not only another person, but herself. A more common situation than you might first think, if you ask me. {Triggering/Au/Bubbline/NSFW} For Nick.
1. Blame It On My ADD, Baby

In Marceline's life, there are moments when she wanted to hug Bonnibel. To grip her tight and long and never let go.

There are moments when Marceline wants to kiss Bonnibel. Like the first time they had a sleepover, not just a 'I decided to stay over after a long night of studying at your place' but a full on planned out sleepover with baking and pillow forts and terrible onesies. It had been planned just a few months after they had become friends, Bonnibel insisting that Marceline needed a good pillow fight and movie marathon, and of course how could she say no to that cute freckled face?

She remembers it vividly, the exact moment her brain started screaming 'kiss her, idiot,'. Bonnibel had finally agreed to watching one of the Saw movies and had this adorable little worried expression etched onto her features that Marceline wanted to kiss away.

But no, she didn't want to ruin anything.

There are some moments in which Marceline wants to relive over and over again. The first time Bonnie allows her to 'punkify' (which, the nerd came up with that word, in Marceline's defence) the younger girl. It ended with far too much eye liner and black nail polish on her bed sheets.

Another moment would definitely be the first gig she ever pulled, smiling and singing with Bonnibel cheering in the overcrowded bar. That was a good moment.

The third... she's had to rethink it too many times to be considered healthy. Half of her desperately wants to shake the memory away, forget it ever happened, make it disappear. The other half? She thinks it made her grow to become the person she is now, thinks that if it never happened, she'd be living a completely different life.

She'll never speak of it, just think about the specifics, the smallest details.

It was the night her uncle passed, her last words to him being something along the lines of 'you're just like my dad'.

There are nights when Marceline second guesses herself, over analyses everything, gets herself into a right state in which she ends up sobbing on the floor of her bedroom. There are nights when Marceline feels alive.

There are days that drag on, forcing her to think about things like her future. She instantly regrets it and carries on with whatever boring objective she'd set herself.

There are things that Marceline wanted to happen.

There are people that Marceline wishes she'd never met, like Ash, her bigoted, egotistical, lying, cheating, sexist ex boyfriend.

There are people Marceline wishes she had met sooner, Like Bonnibel.

There are often moments in which Marceline wants nothing more to give up, to rot away, to die.

She doesn't give in.

She never does.

There is a life that Marceline wishes she had, a life where her brother didn't overdose, where her father wasn't an abusive ass hole, where her mother didn't walk out, where she had the courage to tell Bonnibel how much she means to her.

There are times when Marceline wants to love and be loved back.

Marceline carries on, soldiers on even, and braves the earth with all her determination.

Because if there's one thing she's learnt, it's that dwelling on the past, present and future takes up too much time.

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 **A/N: So I'm not dead. Yet.**


	2. Maybe I Should Cry For Help

**A/N: Read into this if you want.**

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 _Come on, you're fifteen years old. You shouldn't be this pathetic when it comes to telling people you're messed up in the head._ She's in the bathroom, holding a white knuckled grip on the edge of the sink. The very sink that had droplets of blood rolling down into the plughole. Tighter. So tight that her fingers were already numb.

Depression, ADHD, Anxiety… the list could go on. Marceline had been suffering in eternal hell since the day she was born. Her brother, born without ADHD or all the other stuff that made Marceline a… a mess, really, was deemed the 'normal' one.

She exited the bathroom soon after she cleaned her wrists up, her breathing already faltering as she stepped downstairs.

"Dad, come _on_. It's just a party." Marceline paused, deciding whether or not to listen in or make herself known.

"Marshall, no. For the last time just go upstairs; you're supposed to be grounded." Her father said lowly, seemingly trying to keep calm.

"You can't ground me, old man." Marshall hissed, jabbing a finger into his dads shoulder. "I'm not like my sister."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She finally spoke up.

Marshall turned, hand lowering as he glared down at her. "You always make it out like you have it worse, when in reality you're _fine_. I'm the one who's depressed, not _you_."

"Neither one of you is, I'm not having this conversation with you both right now. You're overreacting." Marceline slid back upstairs, hearing her brother yell names and obscenities at their father.

 _Maybe if I don't tell him it'll be fine._ It seemed reasonable in Marceline's head; she made it this far without her father knowing how mentally ill she was. _Everything will be fine._

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 **Everything about this will definitely not be in chronological order, if you haven't noticed already.**

 **Thank you for the kind reviews.**


	3. Maybe I Should Kill Myself

**A/N: In fact, read into all of this; there's a chance you'll see where I'm going, in more ways than one. Foreshadowing is a thing I do on accident. Sometimes.**

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Seven times; that's how many times Marceline has tried to kill herself up to now. Overdosing was her favourable method of escaping the cruel, harsh reality.

"If you carry on at this rate, people will actually start to think you're being serious." Her father had said one time, after hearing news that she was in the hospital.

At that point, Simon was still alive and happy. His happiness usually rubbed off on the young girl, and she even found herself laughing in the hospital bed more often than not.

"Tell me another story," She had whispered into the room, green eyes softening as she watched her uncle. Simon smiled, recollecting many memories he had had over the years.

At length, he finally whispered out, "I knew a young girl once, black hair and a desperate need to become a musician." Marceline frowned, about to cut him off. What came next made her snap her jaw closed and listen intently. "Your mother was a bright young girl Marceline, and you're more alike than you think."

"I said a story." Marceline grouched, arms folding over her chest.

Simon frowned. "I'm getting there. You're both impatient, too."

"Way to cheer me up, Si."

"Any ways," He said with a wave of his hand. "Your mother was smart, smarter than she let on to be honest. Even your father couldn't keep up with her sometimes." Marceline smirked at that one. The thought of her father being outsmarted was music to her ears... well, brain. "You have so much potential Marceline," He finished in a wheezy breath, eyes slowly drooping downwards. "So much..." Marceline watched as her uncle simply fell asleep on the chair, head lolled uncomfortably to one side. God he was so sick.

Marceline swallowed. "G'night Si."

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 **If you have any questions please, ask away. PM me if you're really that inclined to know more information. (I don't normally answer reviews, sorry.)**


	4. Maybe I'm Not Listening

**A/N: Look at me, being all productive and stuff and updating less than a week later.**

 **Chickenwings: I don't plan anything so this being posted now is completely by coincidence.**

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The first day she meets Bonnibel, Marceline was fifteen and had ended up making a complete and utter fool of herself. (Although, in her defence, it was the red heads stupid fault anyway,) It had been a fairly okay week for her; no breakdowns for a good five days, two days off a new personal record. Marceline was just leaving the store she worked at for the summer, staring down at a text her friend had sent, when she collided with a small, freckled girl with the roundest glasses Marceline had ever seen. She almost snorted when the name _Harry Potter_ cropped up in the back of her head.

Instead of saying a casual sorry, like a completely normal person would have done, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Shit."

"Sorry." The other girl had breathed out, like a _normal person._ Honestly, she'd known this girl for all of two seconds and she was already proving that Marceline was a complete fuck up. Lovely.

Noticing that the red head had dropped her change, Marceline decided it best to escape from this incredibly awkward situation before she messed up even more. Social situations weren't exactly her forte.

"Hey wait," Marceline stopped dead in her tracks, blinking twice before realising that the girl was talking to her. _Fuck up._ "You dropped this?" The girl held up a black piece of plastic for Marceline to squint at. (She really needed to remember to wear her contacts more often.)

"Oh," She mumbled when she realised that it was her guitar pick. "Uh, thanks, sorry for running into you." The girl smiled brightly as Marceline took her pick and put it back in the pocket of her jacket.

"It's fine, honestly I was more invested in making sure I had my money out than anything else." Marceline smirked slightly, knowing how much pressure there was in such a simple task like handing money over to a cashier or getting the perfect amount of change so it wasn't awkward. Heck, she even put change and notes in different pockets, and her bus money in her back pocket with her phone, just so that she didn't get mixed up.

Marceline huffed. "I'm Marceline,"

"Bonnibel." The red head, _Bonnibel,_ extended a hand out between them, smile widening as Marceline took the offered hand.

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 **Me and Marceline are one in this fanfic. We both fuck up and are actually really inconsiderate and just. We both panic over silly things like bus money and cashiers. Anywho, a review would be lovely; they're nice to read after all the work I put into these chapters.**


	5. Made It In My Mind

**A/N: You may possibly be getting a double update this week; I only wrote this because I just had a panic attack and started venting through this fic. (Which, to be honest, is what this entire thing is built upon.)**

Marceline hummed, brought her grey covers up closer to her nose, and curled up into a ball. The events of the evening before seemed like a foggy haze in her brain. She knew there was crying, and bleeding, and heaving breaths in as if she'd been plunged into the ocean.

A gentle voice came flooding into the room then, pulling her out of the memories that she was still trying to piece together. "Marcy, are you sure you don't want to go to school?" It was Simon, smiling from under his mop of brown hair. The same mop of hair that would soon grow to become long and wild. Soon. So soon.

"Yeah, Si. You know I don't like going when I've had a panic attack." The man smiled, nodded gently, and left the room, shutting the door slowly on his way out.

Marceline turned over and groaned to find that it was only half eight.

Back to sleep she went.

 _Bonnibel: Hey, are you okay? Your friends said you weren't in music and I know that's not good because you love music. Please text me back._ Marceline blinked and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Bonnibel was worried about her?

 _Marceline: Yeah, I slept in and I've only just woke up. Sorry to inconvenience you._ Almost immediately after she sent a text back, Bonnibel replied.

 _Bonnibel: Oh, okay :)_

 _Is that it?_ Marceline thought. _Wow. No one cares. God I was stupid to think she really was worried about me. Who worries about people- no, fuck ups- like me?_

"Ah, you're awake." Amidst Marceline's inner demons coming out of the dark corners of her brain, Simon had walked in with a bright smile and a bowl of steaming soup. "You hungry?" Her stomach grumbled in response.

 _Fuck up, freak, fuck up, freak, fucked up in the fucking head. I'm a fucking freak._

"Thanks, Si." _You constantly screw everything up. Simon pities you. Your brother killed himself because of you, your fucking mother left because you were too much to fucking handle. Your father hates you because you're such a fucking freak. You deserve nothing. You are nothing._

"I'll see you downstairs?" Marceline gave a shaky nod, looking down at her lap through barely contained tears. _Be fucking normal. For once._ He placed the bowl of soup on her bedside cabinet and left the room without another word. Her phone pinged.

 _Bonnibel: I'm coming over with movies and ice cream, is that okay?_

 _Marceline: You really know how to make me feel better, Bonnie. :)_

 _Bonnibel: Only for you would I walk across town with two bags in cold weather. You're so lucky I care about you._

 _Fuck up, Fuck up, Fuck- Oh, she... actually cares about me._

 **Reason #4 why me and Marcy in this fic are the same: We both drag ourselves down and then get really surprised that our** ** _friends_** **actually** ** _like_** **and** ** _care_** **about us.**

 **Oh also, any chapter with a healthy/alive Simon in means that Marceline is under the age of sixteen. Just saying for when, like this chapter, I don't specify how old she is. Age plays a sort of important-ish role for me when writing this fic and probably for you when reading.**


	6. Have You Been In Pain Like Me?

**A/N: Okay so my update schedule is non-existent so you can just expect them to be near the weekend/at the weekend. Also, it starts to get pretty dark soon so... heads up?**

 **WildStyle: Ayyy, that was probably either torture or something equally as bad considering how bad I am at writing/keeping a constant plot. Also I hope you have/had a good day with your first day, I don't know what you were thinking when you stayed up to read all of _my_ fanfictions but I hope you enjoyed!**

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The day it happened, the day _that thing_ happened, was by far the hardest day Marceline had ever had. Even now, four years after it had happened, Bonnibel would hold her close, wipe her tears away, and whisper out, _'a sixteen year old should not have to go through all that in twenty four hours'._

Even though Marceline knew Bonnie was right, there was still that little thought nagging in the back of her head; always there telling her one of two things. Either 'You deserved it,' or 'It could've been worse,'.

The latter was obviously false.

It wasn't even constantly throughout that day that Marceline was dragged down by events, it was almost as if there were staged intervals making sure that her pain scraped on even further than necessary. She'd been woken up at six in the morning to find her dad screaming at her mother, shouting and stomping his feet like a five year old.

"I am _not_ the one to always let her down." He'd been saying as Marceline stepped downstairs, breath held in her lungs.

And then her mothers voice, strangely hoarse and lowered into a hiss that was probably meant to be a whisper,"Hudson. We are _not_ having this discussion when you know damn well that you have ruined that poor girls life."

"I have not." He muttered lowly in response. "If I have, obviously she'd have gone down the same path as her brother; make our lives easier." The next thing Marceline knew, her mother was sobbing and walking out of the living room.

"You are a _monster,_ one day she'll realise that and follow in my footsteps." She gasped out between gasps of air.

"You're leaving her with me? Who'll look after her when I'm away?"

"She's not seven any more, Hudson; she can look after herself." With that, her mother left the house and Marceline, still frozen halfway down the stairs, shakily tiptoed back into her room where she cried herself to sleep.

The afternoon was about as pleasant as her morning; after spending the entire day having panic attacks and sobbing into her bloody palms, her father called her downstairs.

"Simon's passed. I'm going down to sort out his funeral and the like, are you coming?" Marceline would never forget the harsh, stone cold, emotionless expression on her dads face. He seemed so calm about it, as if he'd been fucking waiting for it to happen so he could collect everything from the will and leave Marceline with nothing but a black eye and bruised arms.

She even remembers the way her heart sank, stomach squishing down into this mushed up mess, lungs shrivelling up as she forgot how to breathe when she saw Simons peaceful face. He'd still not been removed from the hospital bed, and his glasses were sat on his bedside table, atop the newspaper and besides his hat. She remembers thinking about the argument they had had two days prior to this, how she was so full of burning hot rage.

She did not cry.

She simply sat beside him, hands finding his cold one, and muttered out a sentence that will forever be etched into her brain.

"I will stay determined, Si."

And she does.

For a while.

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 **Reason #5 why me and Marceline are the same: We've both been through a lot of shit.**

 **ALSO, before I go, I'm ill so I might update AGAIN this weekend. Depends on my mood.**


	7. My Enemy Is A Friend Of Mine

**Warning: Self harm, Abusive relationships, drug and alcohol mention, blood.**

 **A/N: I completely forgot about updating this yesterday, sorry. This was originally going to be a more fluffy chapter but I figured I'd post this so y'all knew exactly what you were getting into. This is lengthier than the other chapters. It's around 900 words while the others were 300-600. Enjoy!**

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The fact that Marceline voluntarily stayed in an abusive relationship for a year after figuring out it was unhealthy probably showed just how much she simply didn't care for her own well being and happiness. Ash wasn't exactly the perfect boyfriend from the start, he'd forget dates and ditch her for his friends.

But he made a show of acting all charming and romantic when there was someone around to witness it. He'd once bought her a rose and dressed up in a suit (which was probably borrowed, thinking back at it now) and wore this slanted grin that made Marceline feel like she was finally wanted.

Her best friend, Keila, had warned her about Ash's past relationships and habits but even after hearing about him reportedly doing drugs with some of the known junkies at school, Marceline said that he'd changed and that he loved her. _"He's a nice guy, Kei,"_ She remembers herself saying once. _"We're both as fucked up as each other, which is a nice change."_

" _And what about when he drops his 'nice guy' façade? What are you going to do then?"_ But Marceline was already pulling her phone out, smiling at a text she'd gotten from him and ignoring her friend.

It was only when she caught Ash and another girl practically on top of each other at a party that Marceline realised Keila was right. But when she confronted him about the whole ordeal, he simply spat on the floor, muttered something about her being ungrateful and shoved past her.

The next few months after that, Marceline tried to make it up to him by getting him and his friends beers and getting them tickets to go see a concert. Ash would occasionally get drunk and kiss her and acknowledge her as a person again, but it wasn't the same as when they first got together; the kisses were too rough, what used to be gentle caresses then were becoming grabs, the smiles turning to punches, compliments to insults. It became a struggle. She didn't even see Keila as much as she used too.

The day she broke up with him was something that Marceline remembers vividly. It was half two in the afternoon, she'd been in the bathroom of Ash's cramped apartment and he was out cold on the sofa after a party he'd hosted the night before. Her wrists were bloody and cut up, her fingers trembling as she pressed a razor against her skin once more. The door opened suddenly and Marceline dropped the blade in surprise, going to pick it up in case Ash hadn't seen what she'd been doing yet.

"What the fuck?" He spat out at the sight of her. "What the hell is this, am I not good enough for you? Is that why you're fucking cutting?"

"N-No," Marceline stammered out, tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. "You're amazing, I just-"

"Just what? Just don't believe me when I call you hot?" He swiped the razor from the floor and pushed it back into her hands, watching her twitch in pain as the blade cut into her palm. "Fine. If I'm not good enough for you, here. Cut yourself bitch." And she did, watching the blood roll off of her pale skin and fall onto the tiles beneath her. Glancing up, she caught sight of Ash smirking lightly, eyes following the blades every move. He must have realised she looked up because the smirk vanished instantly and he sighed, gripping onto her shoulder and pulling her into a hug that smelled of weed and alcohol and sweat. "See? I love you. I told you to cut yourself so I knew that you felt the same." And even though that made no sense in Marceline's head, she still pressed her face into his collarbone.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be thankful; I love you even though you're completely messed up."

"Wait-" And suddenly, Marceline got a hold of herself and pushed away from the older boy. "No- No this isn't- this isn't right."

Ash frowned, his grip on her shoulder tightening painfully as he tried to pull her into him. "Of course it's right. I'm going to help you, you're obviously so fucked up that you need me here when you cut yourself." But Marceline was resisting, throwing the razor down and pushing away, pressing her palms against his chest and smearing blood against his grey tank top.

"No, you're supposed to tell me to stop, you're supposed to tell me I'm going to be okay- that I'm the complete opposite of fucked up." Ash smirked again, finally pulling her back into a hug.

"But you don't deserve that."

"Everyone deserves that."

"So why won't you do the same to me?" He said with a pout, once again picking the blade up while keeping his iron hold on her. "Look," Holding the blade to his wrist with the arm he had around Marceline, he cut into his skin. Not too deep for it to leave a scar, but just enough so that there was blood. "This is your fault. You never loved me, did you? I'm self harming because of you."

" _This isn't right,_ " Marceline repeated loudly, tears rolling down her face as she shoved passed him, hearing him growl and throw the razor back onto the floor. "It hasn't been for a while now."

"Are you blaming me?"

"Yes-" And then, "No, it's just- I can't do this any more. We're over. I'm sorry." The door slammed closed behind her.

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 **Reason #6 that me and Marceline are similar: We both understand when we're being treated like shit but stick with the relationship/person because we think they might change if we're being nice to them.**


	8. Things Are Glistening

**A/N: Ooh, so this has the tiniest bit of information about Marceline's dad and stuff, but mostly this is just a cutesy little bubbline relationship chapter.**

 **Also, this is in the present time! Woo. I think you might get a double update again this week, considering this is quite late. Sorry about that, there will be more information at the bottom. This getting quite long. Sorry. On with the show!**

 **Warning: Attempted Abuse? I guess that's what I have to call it.**

Marceline sighed, cradling her cup of coffee against her chest as she read headline of the paper in front of her. _**Nightosphere company owner Hudson Abadeer buys two smaller companies to expand profits. More on page 12.**_ Her father was on the picture below, his hair slicked back as usual and his shit eating grin plastered on his face. Honestly, he'll be complaining about not having enough money next and she'll have to stop over at Bonnibel's for a few more days.

As she sipped the still scolding drink in an attempt to leave the house quicker, Hudson walked in with the mail and sat across from her. "Ah, I see you've seen the big news, what do you think dear?"

"Why do you care about my opinion?" She snorted in reply. "I think you're an idiot." His gaze hardened and the envelopes creased slightly under his grip.

"I'm trying to make sure you have a good job opportunity for when you're older, what are you going to do if I die tomorrow?" Gulping down her drink now, because honestly that question was only going to get a bad answer from her, she made to stand up with a grin.

"Celebrate, probably," She muttered out, spinning on the spot to place her mug in the sink. "In fact I I'll pop down to see mum and Marsh and maybe throw a party."

Hudson stood too, raising his fist in her direction as she fled from the kitchen, and yelled out behind her. "You won't be saying that when I do die, Marceline," He growled. "You'll have _no one,_ no one to run to." But all Marceline was thinking of was seeing Bonnibel's face light up as she walked in an hour earlier than usual, and how she'd get to hug her and forget about how her father was right.

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Bonnibel was hunched over uncomfortably, scribbling down notes and equations, and occasionally looking up at her text book. Marceline leaned against the door frame, smiling quietly to herself as she noticed the picture of them both from last week, now on the red heads desk in a nice little frame. She didn't deserve her.

"'Sup nerd." Bonnibel jumped and span around, smiling when she saw her friend in the doorway. Not even five seconds later, she had her wrapped up in a hug.

"You're early." She pointed out. Marceline chuckled and hugged her tighter.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't text you or anything. My dad was being an ass so I left as soon as I could."

"Hey, I'm not complaining." And then Bonnibel released her and ran over to her shelf, scanning the contents before pulling something out with a smile. "You left this here last time by the way, I thought you'd need it considering you keep telling me it's lucky."

"Well duh, if I hadn't of dropped it I'd have never have talked to you." _Yeah, you also would never have developed a pathetic crush on her, idiot._ Bonnie cooed.

"You're a massive cutie pie." She breathed, pulling on Marceline's sleeve to get her to sit on her bed with her. "Come, we need to watch movies and I can't without my cuddle buddy." And Marceline was about to point out that actually, she could watch a movie without her, but then she saw Bonnibel's smile and felt the way her arms snaked around her waist and suddenly, she couldn't think of anything better.

 **The reason this late is because one; I don't plan, and two; I was at my aunts for the weekend and then went to my dads. I was going to write some things there but my aunt has cats and I just. Exploded.**

 **Thank you for all the kind reviews! They really help me understand what you like and what you don't, so don't forget to drop a review if you feel like it! (Or PM me if that makes you more comfortable).**


	9. So Long To All Of My Friends

**A/N: The below text is the full title. Enjoy. Warning: Suicide, blood and a brief sentence about a car accident.**

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 ** _So long to all of my friends (Everyone of them met tragic ends)_**

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Marceline didn't exactly realise how bad Marshall had it. So when she found her brother on the floor in his room, blood pooling at his head, she didn't know how to respond at first. It was her sixteenth birthday in under six months and holy crap her brother had killed himself. She'd screamed for help after her brain began fully processing the situation, tears streaming down her face as her mother came to her side, Hudson slowly walking up the stairs before noticing that both of them were crying.

"Gwen, take her to Simon's for the night." He said in that same emotionless tone that Marceline would hear six months later.

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She hardly slept that night, tossing and turning in the guest bed that Simon had provided her. All she could think about was Marshall's cold dead gaze turned to the door, blood staining his porcelain skin.

Marceline was sent to school the next day without a word, Hudson smiling and telling her ' _everything is going to be all right, Marcy._ ' She remembers shuddering at the words and getting out of the car as fast as she could, slamming the door behind her as she muttered a quick bye.

Everyone seemed to be staring at her during lessons that week, even her usual bullies simply cast a glance and hurried away from Marceline as if she had some sort of infectious disease.

"I'm sorry about what happened, Marceline." One of her teachers had whispered to her as she sat down in her usual seat. "If you don't mind, I'd like you to stay behind so I can speak to you at break." Marceline nodded numbly and stared down at the blank page in front of her.

Turns out the teacher, Miss Adams, had lost a sister in a car accident when she was Marceline's age. Marceline listened with intent as she explained her coping methods and told her that grieving never really stopped.

"There are things that might seem different now to before, big things like your brothers room and his belongings to little things like his favourite colour and the way you two walked to school," She had said, sitting across from Marceline with a sad smile. "Hang onto those moments with happiness, not sadness. His memories are still your memories, they shouldn't be filled with sadness."

And in a way, Miss Adams helped Marceline a whole lot.

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 **Sorry for the late update guys. The only excuse i have is that im a shitty human.**

 **I have two ideas for the next chapter and I sorta want to interact with you guys a little bit. You guys can vote for either a chapter based on Marceline and Keila's relationship or Marceline and her mothers relationship.**

 **Or, y'know, whatever you guys really want to know more about.**


	10. Just Say You'll Wait For Me

**A/N: So, only two of you voted last time and they were both for different options so I cranked the start of this out two days ago and finished it a little over five minutes ago. (Sorry if it seems rushed.)**

 **The vote is still open though! So please go tell me what you'd like to see in the next chapter. Marceline and her mum or Marceline and Keila?**

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Marceline lurched forwards, heaving breaths in and out as she tried to concentrate on the music she'd put on to muffle her crying.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." She hissed under her breath, throwing her phone down onto the floor. "Why can't I do anything right?" There was another ping from her phone, probably Keila telling her she was a massive inconvenience to everyone she's ever talked to.

"Marceline!" Her father called from downstairs. "Turn that music down or I swear to god I will kick you out of this damned house." She squeezed her eyes closed and slammed her hand down onto her stereo, palm painfully hitting the off button and sending it flying across the room. She hadn't talked to Bonnibel in a while; she'd muted their conversation so that Bonnie could focus more on her work. _She probably hasn't even texted you since last Tuesday,_ the voice in her head told her, _she doesn't care about what happens to you._

"No, no, no, no," She muttered. "Bonnibel wouldn't do that. She _likes_ me." _Are you sure? You should check up on her to see if she does care about you._ "But she's working on stuff. I don't want to interrupt her." _She thinks you're a massive inconvenience. She hates it when you text her all the time._ "But... I usually ask how her day went-" _And then it gets out of hand and you're rambling about your day like the selfish fuck you are._ Marceline finally opened her eyes and snatched her phone from her bedside table. She unlocked it and went straight to her messages, thumb hovering over Bonnibel's contact name with the small muted icon next to it.

 _Bonnibel: I don't mind you texting me, I kinda like knowing you care enough about me to ask how my day was._

 _Bonnibel: It's just I really need to do this essay and it's taking longer than usual._

 _Bonnibel: I'll text you tomorrow, Marcy._

 _Bonnibel: Good morning! I see you still haven't read my texts from last night. Did you go out?_

 _Bonnibel: Are you still sleeping?_

 _Bonnibel: Or are you purposefully ignoring me?_

 _Bonnibel: Did I do or say something wrong? Did you have a panic attack? Please respond._

 _Bonnibel: Oh god. I'd come over but I'm scared you're mad at me._

 _Bonnibel: I saw you at school today. You looked like you didn't get much sleep so I stayed away. Please, please, please respond. I'm worried._

 _Bonnibel: Is it Ash?_

 _Bonnibel: It's been almost seven days, I hope you're okay and I want you to know that I'm sorry for whatever I did. I care about you, Marcy._

Marceline blinked down at the eleven text messages. _Eleven._ God.

"Fuck she's worried," _And it's all your fault. Fuck up._

Clicking the call button, Marceline flopped down onto her back and wiped her eyes.

"Marceline? Oh my god I've been so worried, I thought you hated me or something and I-"

"I'm sorry,"

"Have you been crying?"

"Mmhm, I had a panic attack again and Keila keeps messaging me about Ash and I can't handle talking about him but I don't want to hurt her feelings."

"Okay, I'll come over in ten." And then, "Why did you ignore me?"

"You said you wanted to concentrate and stuff so I muted you. Dick move, I know, but I just thought I was being a massive inconvenient jerk."

"Hey, you're not inconvenient." Bonnibel whispered. "And don't ever mute me again, please. I like knowing you're okay and that I can call you whenever. Your voice is nice." Marceline laughed quietly, raising an eyebrow up at her ceiling.

"My voice is nice?" She repeated almost teasingly. "What, is that some sort of weird fetish you have?"

"Oh my god, no. If anything, you're the kinkiest out of the two of us."

"Shut up, you."

"If you say so," Bonnibel laughed. "I'm setting off. I'll be over in ten, see you then dork."

"Later, nerd."

* * *

 **Reason number five hundred me and Marceline are the same: We both think we're massive inconveniences and hate ourselves because of it.**

 **Also sorry for the late update. Again, I'm shitty and don't deserve people like you guys who read my work. So thank you for waiting and stuff.**

 **If you'd kindly leave a review that would make me quite happy, jus sayin.**


	11. Good God, What Have I Done?

**A/N: Yo, sorry for the late/short chapter. No excuses.**

 **So I cut my finger open yesterday and i took the bandage off early and it looks pretty fucked. (That's a good thing; soft gore is my aesthetic.) So if there's any spelling/grammar problems blame me for being a clumsy fuck and falling with a glass in my hand.**

* * *

There was a moment (more like a year,) in Marceline's life where she was itching to self harm at every moment. Every chance she got she cut into her skin. By the end of it she was covered in scars and stitches, bruises which were fading and cuts that still hadn't quite closed, the taste of blood lingered in her mouth for months after she stopped cutting open her lips. Bonnibel always said that Marceline was a book and her scars were the letters, the words, the sentences, the paragraphs, the _chapters_.

Marceline would say they were signs of weakness. Defeat. Signs of the times in which she was hurting more than anybody else was.

She still cuts. Not because she's weak though, but because it's become a sickening habit. She cries herself to sleep every night after ruining her skin even more.

Bonnibel's never angry, she says, but there's something in her eyes that Marceline knew damn well was disappointment.

Because she was nothing more than that, all she'll ever be in fact. Just a fucking disappointment to everyone around her.

* * *

 **Reason number whatever why me and Marceline are the same: Read the last bit.**

 **Again, it was a half/half thing on the keila and mother vote. Imma need you guys to leave more reviews about it.**

 **Reviews are always nice. Also I'm on twitter again so you can DM me if you want!**


	12. Keila

**A/N: Sooo this is one day late. Sorry about that. This is the Keila and Marceline chapter that you lot voted for. Also I have a question for you guys at the bottom of this.**

* * *

Keila narrowed her eyes at her friend, keeping a white knuckled grip on the door handle in case she had to slam the door shut. "I have every right to say I told you so." She muttered.

"I know." Marceline hastily replied, eyes looking everywhere but at her friend.

Keila sighed. "Come in and get yourself cleaned up." She paused then, watching as her friend walked in. In the light she could see the tear stains on her cheeks and the specks of blood on her skin. "Who's blood is that?"

Marceline simply shrugged. "Mine, probably most of it is anyway."

"What did he do this time to finally make you come to your senses?"

"He told me to cut myself so he knew I loved him and then... Then he cut himself and told me it was my fault and I just- I'm too emotionally drained right now, I'd rather not recollect on what happened."

"Okay fine," Keila huffed. "It shouldn't have taken you that long to realise that your boyfriend is an absolute dick."

"I think I'm gay,"

"I mean for Christ sake he fucking called you a- wait, what?" Marceline shifted, eyes flicking to the door as her tongue darted out passed dry lips.

"Look... Never mind I'm leaving." Keila's arm shot out, stopping her friend from making a run for it.

"Who uh... Who made you realise your raging homosexuality?"

Marceline blinked. "My what now?"

"Oh come on, Marceline. You're definitely not straight. Remember that one girl back in our old school? The one with short curly red hair that you hung around with in the library?"

"Kei come on, I didn't come over here to talk about my nerdy past."

"Shush. It was pretty obvious that you liked her more than a friend. It was actually amusing watching you awkwardly try and talk to her whilst you sorted your thoughts and feelings for her. Anyway, not what I asked. Who made you realise you were fucking gay."

"Bi, actually, and why does it have to be a who?"

"Because you're useless at this sort of thing," Keila explained. "You needed someone to give you that little nudge right?"

"Yeah, I guess?"

"Awesome. Is it that blonde librarian girl?"

"Isn't she dating Jake?"

"Oh, right... Is it me?"

"Ew fuck off."

"Is it Bonnie?" Marceline huffed, crossed her arms and looked down at her battered boots. "Oh my god it is Bonnie."

"Yeah, well. In my defence she's really fucking amazing okay?" Keila rolled her eyes, pulled her in for a hug, and smiled.

 **So actually I lied, I have a few questions for you.**

 **1) Can you guys maybe send me prompts for a few oneshots over PM? I need to work on my writing and try and get into the habit of writing more than one thousand words again.**

 **2) How do you feel about me having a (another) snapchat account so I can live snap my thoughts/tips/writing playlists/other stuff while I write?**

 **3) Should I be more interactive with you guys? I sorta like talking to you guys and I had fun with the vote thing but I don't know if that makes you feel pressured/forced to decide on what you read. (bear in mind I'll get around to writing the other choice later. I'm actually writing another chapter for Marcy and her mum rn)**

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave a kind review.**


	13. Gwen

**A/N: Sorry this is late!**

* * *

Marceline grinned, rushed forwards, fell to the floor and immediately started crying. She sat up, tears streaking down her already cold face, and glanced down at her now chewed up knees. Her mother chuckled lightly. Not mean and teasing like her peers, but kind and soft like _family_. She found herself being picked up, cradled against her mother's chest, lulled into a tired state by a faint humming that came from the back of Gwen's throat.

"I thought I told you to tie your laces?" She asked quietly, dark green eyes peering down at her. "Did your dad get round to teaching you?"

Marceline shook her head no and reached up to rub away her tears. "Daddy said he'd show me when I get home." She hiccupped, buried her face into her mother's collar, and fell asleep.

* * *

"Hudson, _please_ ," Marceline opened her eyes, peering up at her older brother who had woke her up with teasing pokes and prods. Their parents were somewhere in the hallway, near the kitchen but not quite in front of the living room door. "All the other kids in her year can tie their laces, it'll take thirty minutes' tops." Their father made some funny grumbling noise and then proceeded to noisily go upstairs. Marshall huffed and turned to face her.

"Great, mum and dad are fighting again and it's your fault." He muttered, watching as Marceline frowned.

"Hey, no one's fighting and it's definitely no one's fault." Gwen was in the doorway, smiling down at her kids. Marceline grinned and raised her arms up in an attempt to hug her from where she was.

"Yeah right," Marshall continued to glare at Marceline, who was now happy because she was being picked up. "I taught myself to tie my shoes, why can't she?"

"You know why, Marshall; we talked about it the other week." The boy rolled his eyes, left the room, and like his father made his way noisily upstairs.

Marceline yawned, staring at her mother's hair and wondering how she had so much of it. She took a handful and tugged gently, marvelling at how soft it felt in her small fist. "Like my bear." She wondered aloud.

Gwen laughed gently. "Like hambo?"

"Hambo!" Marceline cheered, taking her other hand and grasping at another tuft of hair. Her mother cheered with her, leaning closer to brush their noses together and kiss her forhead.

"I love you, Marcy."

"I love you and hambo and Marshall and daddy."

Her mother's smile wavered, too small of a tug downwards for Marceline to even catch it at that age, but it wavered none the less. "Come on, monster, I need to teach you to tie your laces."

* * *

 **Please leave a review!**


	14. Snow

**A/N: You're getting a double update this week because the last one felt rushed and I decided to be kind and write some fluff. The next chapter will either be another mum chapter or incredibly dark and triggering.**

 **CassAnon: You're extremely nice, you know that? Here's your bonnie chapter you amazing human. Your reviews are always nice to read, so please carry on reading and giving me your opinion.**

 **Warning: Abuse, snow, fluff, texts and a not so subtly hidden meme.**

* * *

There was one type of weather that Marceline really, _really_ hated. Of course it had decided to appear during her maybe-possibly-date with Bonnibel, drifting down elegantly from the sky. Marceline glared.

"I can't believe it, I was half expecting there not to be any snow this year." Bonnie marvelled, big blue eyes gazing at the now settling snow. Marceline tried her hardest to hate the weather outside, but found it was getting increasingly difficult to hate _everything_ when her best friend was being all adorable and cutesy about the snow. She turned away, wincing at the pain in her side and arm, and looked back down at her phone.

 _Keila: How's the date goin? Smooched her yet?_

Marceline huffed at the text she'd gotten three minutes ago. Honestly, she partly regretted telling Keila about her definitely-not-a-date with Bonnie.

 _Marceline: It's snowing. I hate snow._

 _Marceline: But Bon is being really cute about it so… that's a plus._

 _Keila: Ikr, snow in April? Something's up with this weather; sunny one minute and snowing the next? Damn England, back at it again with the freak show weather._

Marceline rolled her eyes, turned her phone off, and looked over at Bonnibel who was still staring up through the window at the sky.

She bit her lip and awkwardly shuffled nearer. "Hey, uh… I'm guessing you wanna go out?" Bonnibel laughed quietly, turning her head to smile up at her.

"Nah, you hate the snow and I want my question answering." Marceline tensed, winced again, and clenched her eyes shut; the question.

"Uhm, what question?"

"Who did this to you?" The question was soft, coupled with an even softer hand coming up to brush away hair and caress a nasty bruise she'd gotten the night before. "If it's who I think it is then I promise I won't tell anyone if that makes you uncomfortable. I just want to know who's to blame for hurting you."

Marceline sighed, suddenly a lot less tense, and leaned slightly into the touch. "My dad. We… got into an argument about mum again."

"What was it this time?"

"I uh… I-I…"

"Its fine, you don't have to tell me. I'll take you up on that offer of going out though, the snow's settled." Marceline glanced up at the window and sure enough, the floor was covered in snow.

"Fine, let's go out." Bonnibel grinned and got up from the couch, raced down the hallway and began to put her shoes on. Marceline slowly followed in pursuit, lazily putting her shoes on. She paused when her fingers came into contact with the laces, bitten down nails gently scraping against the material.

She decided to leave them untied.

* * *

 **If you want to suggest a chapter/prompt for this then please send them in! Also, a review is always nice to read.** **I have a new snapchat now, which I'll get around to using soon, it's JoWritesStuff. I'll be live writing and giving y'all my thoughts and feelings whilst writing and stuff.**


	15. In The Night, Headlights Call My Name

**A/N: Warning: Attempted suicide, abuse, vomit, anxiety, depression, panic attacks and blood. (I told y'all this was gonna get darker.)**

 **Sooo... yeah, sorry about this being late. I've been in a pretty self destructive mind set lately and I'm surprised I've not tried to do anything stupid again. Thank you for the really kind reviews.**

* * *

Marceline sighed, her vision finally focussing on something other than the texts her ex had sent her, and choked back a few last sobs.

"Nothing you say will make me open that door," She rasped, looking up at the door which she'd barricaded with her computer desk. The rest of her room was in ruins; her bookshelf was on the floor, the posters on her wall ripped and torn, the picture of her and Bonnie was smashed and lying on the floor near her window. _Fuck._

"Marceline," Bonnibel pleaded. "I _had_ to tell someone about what he was doing to you."

"I trusted you." Marceline barked in reply, staring down at her stinging wrists, bloody and cut up from the last hour she'd been alone with herself. "You told the _police_ of all people. I'm going to be the talk of the damn school, Bon."

On the other side of the door Bonnibel relaxed at the nickname. She wasn't _too_ angry with her, thank god.

"I know and I'm sorry." Marceline scoffed. "I want you to be safe, Marcy, I care about you."

"I'm still annoyed with you." Marceline's voice was louder. She was going to open the door, they'd hug and cry, and everything would be alright. "And I swear if this doesn't work you can be annoyed at me all you want."

"If what doesn't work?"

Silence.

"Marceline, if what doesn't work?"

Bonnie leaned forward to try and hear something, anything.

"Marceline, please-" A shake of a pill bottle. Bonnibel clenched her eyes shut and began pounding her fists against the door, pushing her entire body up against it to try and open the door and help Marceline. As soon as the desk at the other side moved away, Bonnibel's hand slipped into her back pocket to grasp at her phone.

"Listen, I need an ambulance at number seven Prescott lane. My friend overdosed on pills and I don't know what kind." A pause. "Please get here as soon as possible." She hung up and, throwing her phone halfway across the cluttered room, moved over to Marceline's slumped body. She _had_ to get the pills out of her system quickly. Luckily Marceline's jaw was already slack, making entering her probing fingers easy in their task. Bonnie prodded the back of her friend's throat, once, twice, three times before Marceline finally began throwing up the pills. "Come on, I know you took more than that." Again, Bonnibel pressed her fingers into the back of Marceline's throat and pressed firmly, tears now streaming down her face. Marceline threw up once more before the door was thrown open by a couple of paramedics.

The rest of the night was a blur.

* * *

 **Leave a review if you liked it! I read them all.**


	16. It's Just A Temporary Thing

**Warning: Mention of abuse.**

* * *

The room was quiet as usual, the only noise being the wind and rain against the window. Marceline groaned at the taste of vomit that was still lingering in her mouth and wrenched her eyes open.

There was a fan in the corner of the room, gently whirring and turning so that the cold air spread about the room. Marceline shivered, now conscious about the low temperature of the room. In between the door and the fan was a chair that was occupied by Bonnibel, knees up to her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. The pink haired girl let out a soft sigh as her phone screen went black.

"You always forget to bring your charger," Marceline croaked as she lifted her head up to stare at her friend. Bonnibel's watery eyes glanced up, frown lifting up into a small smile.

"I didn't have a lot of time," She admitted softly. "I need a new one now anyway; this one's smashed." Marceline was about to ask why, but then she realised what 'I didn't have a lot of time' meant and swallowed harshly.

"Are you mad?"

"Of course not, It's not your fault your life's crap." Marceline grinned and let her head rest back down onto the pillow.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, Marceline. It's not your fault." Bonnibel sighed and stood, phone still clutched in her hand. "Are you still mad at me?" She asked.

Marceline shifted, allowing Bonnibel to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. "I'm just… annoyed. I told you because I trusted you and you just broke that trust by telling the police I'm being abused."

"By more than one person." Bonnibel reminded her. "I can't believe Ash is still pestering you."

"Yeah, well… I'm hated by a lot of people."

"Your mum doesn't hate you."

"Yeah, she does. Why else would she leave me with him?"

"Because… because it was hard? Because she thought that maybe it would make it easier for you?" Marceline sighed and closed her eyes once more.

"Why'd you save me?"

"Because you're my friend." _And that's all she'll ever be to you, a friend._

"Thank you."

It took a while, a whole month to be exact, but Marceline finally got around to persuading her dad to let Bonnibel stay for a weekend. She'd got it all planned out, they'd watch a few movies, maybe go out when the weather got better, and her dad would be a little bit easier on her with a witness around.

As Friday rolled around Marceline found herself getting up later than usual. Groggily looking at the clock, she found herself already late for first period.

Hudson had gone out for day, a sticky note on the counter had told her. She sighed, grabbed her cold toast, and left the house.

Bonnibel was in only one of her classes on a Friday and that was a double period of Art. She slipped in through the door with a cheeky grin thrown at the teacher.

"Dad's not in and I didn't know where the keys were, sorry." _Valid excuse,_ she thought as the teacher nodded in approval, _save that one for maths maybe?_

"I know damn well that you have a set of keys in your room, where were you? You had me worried," Marceline smiled and took a seat next to Bonnibel, glancing at the task on the board before replying to her friend.

"Up all night playing a new game," She explained, watching as Bonnie relaxed. "Also we're alone tonight for a few hours, so I can show you the ropes and wreck you at GTA."

Bonnibel rolled her eyes. "Y'know, when someone tells you that their parents won't be home, you expect sex or something." Marceline choked on nothing, going a bright red as a long, slew of images entered her mind.

"Sh-shut up," she spluttered, shaking the thoughts out of her head. Well, all but one; the mental image of kissing her friend was something she'd weirdly gotten used to. "GTA and-"

"If you say chill I'll have to slap you."

"Let me finish. GTA and a few movies, maybe some board games seeing as you think you're the monopoly master."

"I _am_ the monopoly master. Yet to be beaten."

"I challenge thee to a duel of monopoly then, m'lady. I insist."

"Of course, Lady Abadeer." They both laughed quietly and continued talking throughout most of the two hours.

It didn't faze Marceline when her dad didn't come after twelve am; she was having far too much fun losing to Bonnibel.


	17. Well Intentioned Mothers

**A/N: Thank you all for the really kind reviews and PM's! I appreciate them all greatly; you're a really nice bunch of people. Here's a chapter about Marceline's parents and stuff.**

 **Warning: Abuse. Not even implied, it's just straight up there. Read at your own risk.**

* * *

Bonnibel was asleep, her hair splayed across Marceline's pillow and her hand resting on the older girls stomach. Marceline on the other hand was wide awake, vaguely aware that her father had come home more than an hour ago, and was planning her escape path carefully as to not wake her friend. Just as she was about to get up, however, Bonnibel rolled away and left Marceline free to go.

"God, Bonnie," Marceline whispered. "You're darn adorable when you sleep." _Wait,_ her thoughts intruded, _that's creepy. Better leave before you make an idiot of yourself._

The house was unusually quiet as she tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room. She was just about to sit down on the couch when she heard her dad grumble and close the fridge door.

"Dad?" She wondered aloud, slowly opening the door into the kitchen. Now, it had to be said, Hudson was never the one to be in a fight and lose but as he turned around it was pretty much obvious that whatever happened that night, he'd been beat up. His long, pale face was bruised and tired, the entirety of his left cheek was bright red and bloody from a gash just underneath his eye. "Uh… you're home late."

Hudson quickly glanced up, apparently surprised that Marceline had even bothered talking to him. "Oh, Marceline." _Yes, dad. That's my name, remember?_ "I uh… went to see your mother. Want's to come back she says." Marceline's eyebrows shot up. "'Course I just think she wants you to go home with her and get the money for it." _Fuck me. Don't panic. Don't think too much about it. Don't even ask._

"She… that doesn't explain why you're beat up." And Hudson chuckled in response, eyes glancing to the fridge in an attempt to try and change the topic, no doubt. "There's a bag of frozen peas at the bottom of the freezer, if that's what you're looking for."

"Thanks, honey." Marceline almost threw up. "What are you going to do with your friend today?"

"Uh… I dunno. Probably go to the park or something." Hudson nodded and turned to get the bag of peas from the freezer.

"You didn't… you didn't hurt her, did you?"

"Marceline… Marceline, Marceline, Marceline… I did what I had to do to keep you away from her. She left all three of us alone, she deserves to be alone too." _Remember what Bonnibel said._

 _"_ _She thought it would make things easier for you?"_

"What does that mean? Did you hurt my mother?"

"Your mother?" He roared, turning with the bag of peas gripped in his hand. "Excuse me? Who has been the one to look after you all these years?" He took a stride towards her. "Who has been the one to provide for you?" Another advance. "I have had to live with the death of my son, the leaving of my wife and all the while I've put up with you." His finger jabbed into her shoulder, knocking her backwards against the wall. "You are an ungrateful," He struck his palm against her cheek, the mark throbbing and stinging as his hand curled into a fist. "Attention seeking, suicidal," Two more marks joined the other, this time on her jaw and temple, sending her toppling to ground in a daze. "Little bitch." He sent a kick to her ribs, dropping the peas on the floor next to her as he stormed out the door.

"Pick yourself up, Marceline," He called from the living room. "Or nobody else will."


	18. Irayo Eywa, We're Alive

**A/N: Fluff and Marceline being mean to herself again. Thanks.**

* * *

Marshall's grave was in the farthest corner of the cemetery. Marceline almost _always_ came to him when something at home had happened, or when it was Christmas or his birthday. Hudson never really asked why she went over there so often. Marceline thinks it's because that deep down he knew she needed it as a way to grieve; she never really got the chance to when her brother died.

"Take these with you if you're going down," He had said one time, holding out a bouquet of flowers to her. Marceline took them, thanked him, and left.

Going to see him once a week became a habit unlike all the others, instead of causing herself pain or trying to end everything she could finally vent and relax and apologise numerous times for disregarding his own pain.

Deep down she was the monster, not Hudson.

Bonnibel goes with her once every two weeks to keep her company. She always sits and smiles and stays quiet while her friend rambles about anything and everything. It's like listening to the inner workings of Marceline's brain chatter away on their own accord, without Marceline's 'emotional filter' as she liked to call it.

That's how Bonnie finds out about Marceline's eating disorder. That's how she initially found out about her anxiety and depression and ADHD.

"You probably think I'm a mess." Marceline mumbled the first time Bonnibel joined her. "I don't blame you."

"You're not a mess, Marcy. All of those things make you who you are. Nothing can change that." Bonnie replied softly, resting a hand on the older girl's thigh.

"I'm still a mess." Marceline muttered, half smile threatening to come onto her face and without hesitation, Bonnibel smiled with her.

Her hand didn't move for the rest of their stay.


	19. Everything You Do, Is Super Fucking Cute

**A/N: I was going to update earlier in the week but I forgot. Also, it's... six thirty in the morning here and I've been awake for more than twentyfour hours so blame that if there's any errors in this; I only just finished writing it and proofing it ten minutes ago.**

 **Warning: Very small mention of Marcy and her dad having an argument. Also, she has _thoughts_ about Bonnibel now. I'll make sure to warn you in later chapters when they get... inappropriate. Fluff ahead.**

* * *

"You look really gay today." Marceline blinked, hands slipping nervously into the pockets of her skinny jeans. _She knows, Keila told her about your pathetic crush. Holy fuck she knows._ "You look great though, as always." _She's wearing shorts? Holy crap. That... That's really hot. That tank top leaves nothing to the imagination either, fuck._

"Uh, yeah," Was all Marceline could manage, all too aware of the red creeping up her neck. "Sorry I didn't call, my dad threw my phone out the window yesterday."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around the older girls shoulder. "It's fine, I'm glad you're here." She leaned away and straightened the collar of Marceline's flannel out, the palm of her hand pressing against her shoulder.

The red crept higher.

"Uh," She quickly stepped away from the younger girl, ignoring the fact that Bonnie's fingers brushed against the side of her neck, and let herself in. "So like, can I ask you something?"

"Anything." Bonnibel assured her.

"If... If I told you I was bi what would your reaction be?"

"I'd be happy for you," She replied simply with a shrug. "Coming out is a big thing." Marceline relaxed considerably, letting out a relieved sigh as she glanced down at her shoes.

"I'm bi."

And Bonnibel just grinned.

* * *

 **Fluffy fluff fluff. Oh man are you guys going to hate me later on. *checks plans for what could be the next chapter***

 **Soon. :)**

 **As always, please leave a review telling me what you liked!**


	20. I Can't Live Another Life

**A/N: I'm cackling holy crap, these next few chapters are harsh. I** **'m so so so sorry for this chapter (and the ones after). As I'm writing this I'm proof reading the next chapter and I'm putting it on the doc manager as soon as I can. Also, I'm glad that I got to chat with some of you guys after the last update; you're all awesome and I love your ideas and opinions on this fanfic.**

 **Warnings: implied rape, guns, weapons, mystery and mention of blood. (This is pretty heavy and probably will be next chapter too. Yay story advancement.)**

* * *

The room was empty save for a table and chairs that were tucked away in the far left corner, the lights had been dimmed and were faintly humming with power. Ash slipped in through the door, eyes narrowed into slits as he glanced around in search for the man he was meeting up with.

He took his place near the table and checked his phone. _19:33_ flashed up on his lockscreen, above the picture of him and his dog on a torn up couch.

The door opened once more and his accomplice prowled in. He strode over to the table and placed his black leather briefcase on to the metal surface with a stone cold face.

"Sir," Ash greeted the man with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Everything you need," The man drawled. "Is right _here_." The case clicked open and he raised the top compartment up. "Do you have the money?" Ash, peering over his shoulder, nodded and hummed in response.

"Two fifty, like we discussed yeah?" The man smiled and turned, taking the money Ash offered him with a nod.

"Text me using your disposable when you're done."

"Of course," Ash said with a smirk. "Pleasure doing business with you Mr Abadeer." And the door closed once more.

* * *

Marceline hummed, tucking her cold hands into her hoodie, and glanced at her watch. _Midnight already. Your dad won't be worried. Stay out, walk into the road, hide like the coward you are._

She was surprised when her phone pinged and an unknown number came up.

 _I have Bonnibel._

The frown on her face deepened.

 _What the fuck?_

 _I have Bonnibel._

 _Where exactly?_

 _Boes road. Across from the nightclub._

She debated whether or not to go for a good five minutes. But this unknown person might be telling the truth. _And if they're dangerous at least you'll get what you deserve._

The rain started at around half past midnight and Marceline got to Boes road ten minutes after.

Two girls stumbled out of the club as she passed, giggling and being escorted by a guard.

"We didn't even _do_ anything." One of them said, twirling her hair around her finger.

Marceline walked on, striding across the street to the set of flats on the other side.

 _Top floor, room 34._ She frowned and glanced up at the windows; surely whoever this was had seen her outside.

The place had a very weird vibe about it. Marceline took note of the peeling wallpaper and the fact that most doors didn't have locks.

When she got to the third and last floor, she swallowed harshly and come to a halt at the door of room 34.

 _Enter slowly._

She did as told.

The door was immediately slammed behind her and something hard, cold and heavy smashed into the back of her head.

"Don't say a word." Marceline didn't have time to question why the voice sounded so familiar, nor did she have time to register the hand over her mouth or inspect the warm trickle of something down the nape of her neck, because she was roughly slammed against the wall and told to 'shut the fuck up'.

Something metallic and long was pressed against her stomach, slowly lifting her hoodie and shirt up to allow access for her attackers hands to follow in pursuit. She barely heard the cock of the gun over her blood pounding in her ears, but she bit down on filthy skin and kicked and thrashed when the hand roamed further north.

" _Bitch,_ " And Marceline _knew_ it was Ash, and she _knew_ damn well that she needed to do something to get out of this stupid situation before it got any worse. Her head throbbed as Ash slammed her back into the wall, swapping his hand for the barrel of the gun which entered her mouth and pressed into the back of her throat. She tongued the hole and squeezed her eyes shut tight. "I'm taking what should have been mine a long, _long_ time ago and you're going to have to put up with it, alright?" For once she couldn't smell alcohol on his breathbut there was a faint smell of cologne and _home_ that terrified her even more than any drug Ash had ever gotten high on.

In a last attempt to break free from her ex, she brought her knee up in a futile attack. He laughed, wrapped his hand around her neck and slammed her head into the wall again and again until finally, Marceline's world went black.

* * *

 **Phew, that was odd to write. Also, Hudson and Ash are two very complex and interesting characters to write for this story. I hate both of them (Hudson simply because I write him as an asshole and Ash because he deserves it) but I love, love, love writing them.**

 **Leave a review if you like! (I'll be handing out tissues in the reviews this week, y'all need it.) And thank you all for reading.**


	21. Like Nobodies Coming

**A/N: This was meant to be up earlier, check my twitter if you want to see me ranting about my internet and such. I feel evil for doing this to you guys but as they say, the show _must_ go on. **

**Warning: Mention of rape, shouting and arguing, mention of bruises, mention of fire, crying and more plot.**

* * *

Marceline's head was pounding and throbbing, her brain protesting at her attempts to open her eyes. There was a breeze coming from somewhere, probably an open window, and she was vaguely aware that she wasn't wearing much.

She finally managed to wrench her eyes open, squinting at the sudden sunlight flooding into her vision. The room was cold and the mattress she was laying on was hard. Marceline lifted herself up, ignoring the aches and the pains, and was suddenly struck with the smell of smoke.

"A-Ash?" She croaked. There wasn't any sign of him except for the bruises that now littered her body. _Must've up and left._ She thought through the dazed pain in her head. The room spun as she sat up to pull her black briefs up her legs. She gathered the rest of her clothes and stumbled out into the hallway.

As she exited the building she finally found out where the smell of smoke was coming from. The nightclub had been set ablaze; Ambulances, police cars and news vans littered the street, people shouting and coughing was all Marceline could hear. One of the girls from last night was in handcuffs, glaring at the floor as a police officer noted down what she was saying.

Marceline walked on.

* * *

As soon as Marceline was inside she allowed the tears to fall, dropping onto the wooden floor as she slipped her shoes off.

"Dad?" She called weakly, shuffling down the hall into the kitchen. Her father was sat down at the table, sipping on his coffee as he read the newspaper laid out in front of him. "Dad?" She asked again, quieter this time as to not startle him.

"Where have you been all night?" He asked sternly. Marceline blinked.

"I-I... Ash attacked me and- and he..." She trailed off and clenched her eyes closed, feeling so small stood up in front of Hudson.

" _Please_ finish your sentences, Marceline. What did Ash do?"

"He fucking raped me, you asshole." She spat, slamming her hands down on the wooden table to glare at him through her tears. Hudsons face didn't even show any sign of emotion as he glanced up at her, instead of pity there was absolutely nothing. Just a cold hard face.

And Marceline was fucking _sick_ of it.

"Are you just going to sit there or are you going to say anything?" She all but yelled as Hudson continued to do the latter. Marceline's grip on the table tightened until her fingers grew numb and her knuckles went white. "You're not my father." She spat. "Take me to my mothers house or god forbid-" And Hudson had the _nerve_ to laugh. To sit there and chuckle. He stood up as the laughter died away in his throat, hand coming to unbutton his suit jacket.

"I'm not taking you anywhere, Marceline... Now I do believe you're two hours late for school. Are you not?" He brushed passed her on the way into the living room and suddenly Marceline knew why Ash smelled so familiar.

He smelled like cologne and home.

* * *

 **I really sort of want to know what you guys think will happen. So if you _do_ leave a review then please feel free to tell me. (Or you could just PM me, or tweet me, or if you really want you can ask me on tumblr. It has a messaging system on there too now. I'm rambling.)**

 **As always, I hope you enjoyed!**

 **(And I love talking to you guys.)**


	22. Please Stay Forever With Me

**A/N: I'm sorry for such a short and late chapter, I just felt no motivation to write this chapter so I'm sorry if it feels rushed.**

* * *

"Nothing happened," Marceline snapped. "I'm fine." The hand on her shoulder dropped and she immediately felt guilty.

"You look like you haven't slept in a week Marceline," _Sounds about right_. "Is it your dad? Ash? Your mum?" Marceline was sick, lurching forwards from the bed to spew up on the floor as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "You're obviously not fine, Marceline. What happened?" Bonnibel tried again, rubbing her hand on her friends back soothingly. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened last week."

"Fuck off." She bit harshly. "I don't need you help so just go fuck yourself." Bonnibel frowned and opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but was immediately met with the answer. "Get out of my fucking house and never fucking talk to me again." And Bonnibel was about to do something stupid and leave and never come back but then Marceline looked up at her, tears in her eyes, and whispered, "I'm sorry,"

Bonnibel wrapped her friend up in a hug and sighed quietly as Marceline began to cry.

"I won't leave you Marceline."


	23. You Self Destructive Little Girl

**A/N: Another flashback chapter. Sorry for the wait, I've had absolutely no motivation and then... suddenly my mood dropped and I cranked this out from memories and feelings. Don't feel sorry for me whatsoever, I'm not saying these things for attention. I just think y'all should know my origins for this story and the fact that I've been through this so idiots cannot tell me 'this is wrong' or 'that's not what it's like'.**

 **Warnings: Heavily implied self harm and eating disorder, mention of blood, mention of abuse.**

* * *

Marceline remembers very little about her mother. It saddens her, sometimes it crosses her mind late at night or suddenly a crushing realisation blows over her during her day and the rest of her _month_ is ruined, but then she remembers that not everyone _has_ a mother and she feels guilty for being sad. That's usually when she starts getting self destructive again after a while of not hurting herself. The things she does remember are all stupid and blurred, as if her brain goes into fast forward when she thinks back on them.

There's one memory that definitely stands out amongst the others and it's so, so, _so_ stupid, really it is, because it's first time she finds out that making herself hurt, making herself numb and dizzy and exhausted in a completely new and better way than the other times, helps her get over certain things that hurt in the other way, the more familiar way. She was _ten_ , fucking _ten years old_ when she first learnt that punching herself dulled some of the stress and anger from school. She gave herself a black eye and a bust lip and made herself dizzy and she blamed it on falling out of her fucking bed. Gwen smiled when she told her, and got Hudson to move the bedside table away from the bed. Marceline figured out other excuses, like ' _a boy did it at school_.' when she bruised herself so much on the way home from school. Other excuses came flooding in when a few months later came the discovery of if you unscrewed the blade of a pencil sharpener you could _bleed_ your problems out by dragging it across her wrists. _'I fell over,_ ' was the most common excuse for her wrists but then it became her thighs and knees and stomach and she decided that a new wardrobe was in order. Long sleeves and no shorts so that whenever her skin _itched_ she could rub the fabric instead of getting blood underneath her finger nails. A few months after that it was skipping out on meals and binning her school lunches as soon as she got into the building, too, starving herself when she thought she was undeserving of substance.

Her mother found out somehow, probably a teacher that told her or possibly one of her friends had let it slip to their parents, and Marceline was pulled out of school for a week. Gwen wasn't as harsh as her father, who had yelled and _hit_ and forced fed her when he found out, instead she was gentle and understanding. She had connected the dots and took Marceline to the doctors.

Diagnosed with an eating disorder and severe depression at ten years old, she soon was on the medication she needed.

Marceline, luckily, grew out of the eating disorder with her mothers help.

But depression was a war, not that the ED wasn't, and Marceline was a one girl army against demons and darkness and peers and herself.

She gave up multiple times.

* * *

 **Leave a review if you'd like, they help me out a lot. Plot will either continue in the next chapter or the one after that.**


	24. You Could Think Better

**A/N: sorry for the long wait, I wasn't fully okay with how i wrote this the first time so I completely rewrote this and the next few. To be honest i'm still not 100% okay with this but oh well. Good news everybody! I have inspiration for this fic again. Thank you to those who have been reviewing.**

 **Warning: Guns, drugs mention, rape mention, abuse mention and death (yikes!).**

* * *

The door to the meet up point creaked open and Ash stepped through carefully into the threshold. He didn't want to be here, not at all, and the very thought of talking to the father of his ex girlfriend who he had _raped_ a week ago made him sick to his stomach. Which was ironic, really it was.

Hudson was late. Though Ash already knew that because of the intense phone call he had received ten minutes prior to him leaving his house. His phone buzzed again and the first sentence was enough to make his heart sink.

 _I'm outside. Put the gun on the table near the door along with your phone._ Ash almost kept the gun in his hand but then he remembered the steely gaze of Hudson Abadeer and did as he instructed. Hudson stepped in as he placed his phone on the table and Ash had to back away quickly to the far wall because this man was angry, that he knew from the balled fists and the piercing stare.

"When will you learn to not defy what I say?" He began carefully. "You raped her, didn't you?" Ash nodded numbly and found his back pressed against the wall that he wanted to swallow him. "I told you to use the drugs to knock her out and you use them for yourself. I tell you to use the gun to scare her a little but you used it against her. If I find out that you have hurt my daughter in any other way I will gut you like a fish."

Ash snorted, suddenly gaining a small burst of confidence. "That's rich coming from the man who hit her as a child." That earned him a well-placed slap across the face. It stung like hell and Ash had to recoil from the man into the corner of the room.

"How dare you." Hudson growled lowly. "I offer you money to try and get back together with her and you repay me by raping my only daughter and questioning my parenting?"

"L-Look, Mr A I never meant for that to happen I just-"

"Sit down." Hudson grabbed one of the steel chairs from a table and set it down in the middle of the room. Ash suddenly felt very sick.

He found himself being shoved down onto the cold metal chair and was patted on the shoulder rather mockingly. It was then that Ash noticed Hudson had taken his gun from the table. He swallowed thickly when Hudson cocked the gun and the barrel was placed at the back of his head.

"Word of advice," Hudson breathed. "Take it like a man."

Hudson shot him dead with no hesitation and he left the room without even a glance back at the body now slumped in the chair.

He smiled the entire car ride home.

* * *

"You're cheating," Marceline muttered as she elbowed Keila in the side. Bonnibel giggled as she passed them both and entered first.

"Me?" Keila nearly yelled. "Your girlfriends the one who keeps winning." Marceline flushed a dark shade of pink at the teasing and grabbed her friends controller and threw it at the door as it opened. It hit something firm and then fell to the ground, batteries rolling out. Hudson sighed gently and watched as Marceline did a double take.

"D-Dad. You're home early."

"I went over to deal with that ex boyfriend of yours." He replied with a nonchalant shrug as if he always did nice things for her. "What did you ever see in him?"

"I said the same thing, sir." Keila said uncertainly, knowing how much Marceline hated her father. "He was always a prick."

"I offered to punch him in the nose," Bonnibel added. It seemed as if she was the only one not perturbed by Hudson's presence. He smiled at her and _laughed_ softly.

"I can think of better places to punch a boy like him," He said. Marceline's jaw dropped. "Close your mouth, Marceline. You'll catch flies." And then he was off, heading upstairs to sleep as the three girls were left to their game of Mario kart and hushed whispers about what the hell just happened.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	25. Wondering For What We Could Be

**A/N: Yo here's some fluff.**

 **Warning: mentions of self harm, having a therapist and sickly cute conversations between your fave nerds.**

* * *

Marceline had a therapist. Well… sort of. She never went to see him and he never really phoned up at the house which was great because her father didn't know she had booked appointments to go. The guy was nice enough, his name was John and Marceline found it fairly easy to talk to him about her problems and the weather. He never truly understood when Marceline started talking about what went on in her brain but then again no one ever did and she found it infuriating when they _thought_ they knew what she meant.

Bonnibel knew sometimes. It was odd because Bonnie was so smart and _pretty_ and even when Marceline was arguing with her or trying to listen to her talk about science she instead began to wonder about what noises her friend would make if Marceline's mouth was-

"You're not listening again, are you okay?" Bonnibel asked gently. Honestly, Marceline's thoughts were in the gutter as soon as Bonnibel began lecturing her about having to go see her therapist again because she'd been cutting.

Marceline hummed in affirmative and tried to get the images of Bonnibel underneath her out of her head. Her friend obviously didn't believe her and cupped her cheek with her soft hand.

"You're warm."

"Imagine that," Marceline shot back quietly, playing with the hem of her shirt. Bonnibel's brows furrowed and Marceline sighed, already knowing that she'd have to explain herself. "Have you seen what you're wearing?"

"What I'm- I'm sorry what?" Marceline shrugged. "Marceline, I'm wearing shorts and a tank top, there's- _oh._ " Bonnibel's confusion quickly turned to a look of intrigue as she shuffled closer to her friend. Marceline blushed a little harder. "I think you have a crush on me, Abadeer."

There was a bunch of scoffing and Marceline was rigid. Even the usually soothing circles of Bonnibel's hand on her shoulder blade didn't calm her down. "I do not." She finally rasped out, face burning incredibly warm as Bonnibel's laughter calmed her down.

"You're interested in what I'm wearing, I'm your 'emergency friend' for if something happens, Keila's been really weird recently and whenever I'm talking you zone and stare at my-" Bonnibel gestured down to her chest.

"Shush, that's… that's not PG and I do not stare at your- your…"

"My what, Marcy?" Marceline was utterly screwed as Bonnibel bit her lip and smiled as innocently as possible. It should be illegal to look that adorable and hot at the same time.

"I swear to god you and Keila are out to get me." Bonnibel laughed some more.

"You're not denying it."

"You're not gay."

"You never asked."

"I'm asking now."

Bonnibel's head tilted, smiling ever so slightly as her friend blushed some more. "Hm, I'm not… straight. I think I'm gay? I dated a few guys in my life, wasn't too fussed. You're… attractive." That made Marceline snort. "Shut up, you are." Marceline nearly fainted when Bonnibel leaned forward to wrap her arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug and a light kiss on the cheek.


	26. Down The Street Of Valentine

**A/N: Loosely based off of a song that I'll put at the bottom because spoilers. I wrote the first few hundred words after a breakdown and then... cheered both me and the fic up a little just now. Yes, this means that I haven't proofread.**

 **WARNING: Slighly NSFW thoughts, me bashing a Toyota Yaris (honestly i fucking hate that shitty car) and... the moment a lot of you have been waiting for, but not necessarily.**

* * *

Crying was something Marceline had come to love, even if it did give her a headache and numbed her senses for a while. Crying let her brain catch up with her emotions, allowed her to rethink some things and it made her feel a whole lot better afterwards. It also came with the plus of Bonnibel worrying over her and running her hands through Marceline's hair and kissing her forehead. Marceline also got to put her head on her friends lap so they could watch something on Netflix together to calm her down.

"Want a drink of a water?" There was a spider in the corner of the room, Marceline narrowed her eyes at it before rolling over to look up at the pinkette. She shook her head no and glanced back at the laptop at the end of the bed.

In truth, the only reason Marceline had started crying was because the voice in her head had brought something to her attention; even after Bonnibel had practically come out to her, even after Marceline told her about her pathetic crush, Bonnie still referred to her as a friend. Nothing had changed between them. Bonnibel didn't want a relationship with her.

The older girl sighed and paused the episode without warning. The spider began moving upwards. "What time did you say you had to leave?" Bonnibel's face dipped into a frown before she looked outside. It _was_ pretty dark.

"Ten."

Marceline sat up, shaking her head of her thoughts about Bonnibel's thighs and how they'd feel pressed against her ears, or what her name would sound like when her friend whispered it out as Marceline made her climax. Those were bad thoughts. Bad thoughts that had been keeping her up late at night for the past week or so.

She pressed escape and her eyes flew down to the clock in the corner. **9:47**.

"You should probably go." She muttered after she sighed, stretching her legs out on the bed. Bonnibel hummed and took Marceline's hand in hers before speaking.

"Hm, yeah. Walk me to my car?" Marceline had almost forgot that Bonnibel had been taking driving lessons. _Fuck I'm an idiot, I should've asked how they were going or if she was enjoying them or-_ "You don't have to, I'm just cold and…" She trailed off distractedly, fingers fumbling with Marceline's sleeve. She dragged it up gently with her fingertips and brought her other hand to delicately trace the scars on her wrist. Marceline swallowed. _Keila's gonna be so pissed when I tell her I'm comfortable with Bonnie touching my scars and not her, fuck, fuck, fuck_.

"Sure," Marceline breathed. "Uh, you can have my jacket if you're cold."

"I'll get warm eventually." There was hidden meaning behind that, and Marceline just knew it, but she didn't say anything else and instead followed her friend down the stairs and slipped her shoes on.

Bonnibel opened the door and Marceline nearly snorted when she saw a brand new Toyota Yaris parked across the street, all red and shiny and bad. They were stood on the pavement for a while, Marceline simply gawking at Bonnibel who was rifling through her little bag for the keys. She found them with an adorable triumphant smile and Marceline found herself being led to the red Toyota.

"Get in if you like, it's freezing and it takes me a while to start the damn thing up." And so Marceline opened the passenger seat door and slid in, watching as Bonnibel got into the drivers seat and began to blindly jab her key into the dashboard in the dark.

"Will you kiss me?" It sort of spilled out of her mouth and it took Bonnie a few seconds to realise just what Marceline had asked of her. Her lips tilted up into a small smile and she tilted her head to look at Marceline, finally getting the key to go in. Honestly, Marceline should have been prepared for it considering the amount of times she had thought about it and played it through her head. But no, she was utterly fucking terrified.

Bonnibel kissed her at exactly five to ten on a Saturday night. It was clumsy and slow and Marceline finally realised what Bonnibel had meant when she said she'd warm up eventually.

When they parted Marceline stared into the road directly in front of her, tense and almost uncomfortably straight in the seat. Bonnibel's hands landed on the steering wheel.

"Thanks." The younger girl said, barely containing her smile as Marceline nodded dumbly and rasped out the words, 'yeah, you too,' before leaving the car and sprinting back into her house.

Neither of them slept the following night.

* * *

 **The song is a short one but I love it so much, it's When We First Kissed (duh) by Hellogoodbye. Maybe give it a listen?**


	27. Requested Chapter

**A/N: A friend requested I use something they said as a prompt and.. well this wasn't meant to be this chapter but she's too cute to deny so here it is. Set the day after the last chapter. Next chapter will be dark again, so heads up.**

 **Warning: Kisses and Embarrassment. Possible insomnia warning? Idk.**

* * *

Marceline's gaze lands on her friend immediately; she's the only person in the room with pink hair, plus she's falling asleep rather quickly and the older girl just has to smirk.

She wanders over to where Bonnibel is half napping and gives her shoulder a light shake. She's met with two blue eyes and a frown that was quickly upturned into a smile.

"Don't you have a bed to sleep in, nerd?"

Her friend shrugs and yawns and stretches all at once and Marceline is tired just from watching her. "I was just resting my head." She mumbles. "I can sleep during last period anyway."

Marceline frowns. "You should sleep, at home I mean." She pauses then, because Bonnibel looks slightly frazzled and she worries about her friend too much. "Also sleeping in school is bad, because I totally didn't sleep through my entire maths intervention class earlier today." She adds the last bit under her breath, in a sort of grumble that she doesn't really care if Bonnibel hears or not.

Luckily though, because if this was the well rested Bonnibel she would have been scolded the minute the sentence passed her lips, she doesn't hear and instead lets Marceline wrap an arm around her waist and pull her to her feet.

"Why didn't you sleep last night?" She had a good feeling what the answer was, and wasn't surprised when she was right.

"You kissed me. Of course I was thinking about that more than I was about sleep." She seemed slightly more awake, more there as she explained. Marceline didn't step away.

"Right. Yeah,"

"We should do it again some time," Bonnibel says with another yawn. "Just.. not in my car. Maybe your room, or a fancy restaurant, or a cinema? Ooh, we can always make out on my couch."

Marceline has never been so red in her life.

"Anywhere's fine with me." The older girl grumbles lightly, watching her friend out of the corner of her eye. Bonnibel grins.

"Good. See you after last period." She gives her a quick peck on the lips there and then before darting away.

* * *

 **It's really short, I know. But hopefully next chappie will be longer and darker and hoo boy I can't wait to share it with you.**


	28. The Very Bottom Of Everything

**A/N: Sorry this was supposed to be up after I got home but I got a little bit preoccupied. Uhm, yeah.**

 **Warning: Suicide attempt mention, drug and alcohol mention, genitalia mention, self harm mention, Ash Mention, Vandalism mention, sex mention.**

* * *

It's lucky that Marceline couldn't remember the first time she tries killing herself. Keila constantly avoided the topic and even Simon used to make a face and ignore her when she asked.

Ash is the only person to tell her what happened and, even though she barely trusts him, she believes his story.

"It was at that party," He tells her with a bored expression on his face, it's not two months after their breakup and Marceline is already on a pity date with him. She has Keila's number ready to call just in case things got bad. "You got totally fucking smashed after like five cans of beer and went off on a strop after taking a pot brownie. You yelled at me, Keila, some guys I brought with me, hell you even started yelling at yourself. I guess I didn't exactly help you out, too busy taking pictures with that babe Phoebe, you know the one with the tits?" Marceline doesn't remember but nods anyway. "Then you went upstairs and I guess you started cutting your wrists or something in the bathroom because when you came back downstairs you were bleeding all over me and punching my chest."

Marceline wants to snort but instead sighs. "Just- cut to the point. When did I… y'know-"

"Yeah, yeah, give me a minute." He cuts in. His cold eyes roll upwards to remember every last detail. "I think me and my friend Brad took you outside. He told you to punch the shit out of his exes car. You were stoned as fuck man, and broke your knuckle by smashing the passenger window. Man I wish I got that shit on camera.

"Anyway, Brad finally went inside and you found the chicks bag inside her car. I didn't know what the fuck you were doing so I left to go bang the girl just to make sure she didn't get too angry. Looking out for you, you know?" This time, Marceline does snort and looks down at her coffee.

"Right, yeah."

"So then a few hours later as people start to leave some girl starts screaming about how there was a dead chick on the floor and then Keila starts crying and punches my jaw out of place, yelling at me because I was too busy boning this girl instead of caring for you. Which, we weren't even dating then so why the fuck should I care for a stoned bitch? Anyway, yeah, you overdosed on the girls dieting pills or something. The lass got fucking angry and never let me finish." Ash ended it off with a shrug, downing his beer and throwing it aside. Marceline watched it roll across the floor and shot an apologetic look at the waitress.

"So, that's it? I got high and overdosed?"

"Mhmm, so wanna come back to my place tonight? I can get you high again and you can overdose on my dick if you-"

Marceline never heard the rest of that sentence.

* * *

 **Again, extremely sorry. Not my fault this was a little late. Bye.**

 **Please leave a review, I try to reply to all of them!**


	29. Revival

**A/N: reviving (heh) this because I was having a major breakdown when I 'finished' this fic and I reread it and that is not how this story ends. No sir.**

 **Also, I really miss writing lots of lil related drabbles/oneshots for a fic. It's relaxing and I can just write whatever whenever I get inspiration.**

 **Warnings: mentions of abuse, fluff, gay shit.**

* * *

The first time one of them tells someone else that they're dating never fails to make Marceline happy. They were with Keila having a movie marathon of the Alien movies when their weird relationship came up in conversation.

"So, like, you two are dating now. How's that going for you?" Keila had asked. And really, Marceline wouldn't call making out in Bonnibel's Toyota a relationship, but Bonnibel nodded all the same.

"It's nice actually having a girlfriend," She said through a smile, hand resting on Marceline's thigh. "Y'know, Finn thought I just said I was gay because I didn't want to date him."

Marceline narrowed her eyes at the mention of Finn, but was still surprised by Bonnibel saying that Marceline was her girlfriend. "We're both baby gays, it's fine." She chuckled around her sudden nerves. "And Finn would say that because he wants you to date him. Which, ew, gross."

Keila rolled her eyes. "Remember when you thought I was the bi one?"

"I think I was putting my gayness onto you, Kei." Marceline said truthfully. Really, she had asked Keila if she was bi because she just wanted to know if she was a-okay with that whole concept. Luckily, her friend ended up confessing that she was aromantic but didn't really care if Marceline was bisexual (back then, Marceline had denied it immediately) and she felt a little bit better knowing that Keila wouldn't kill her for having an interest in women. "I'm just glad you won't try to steal Bonnibel from me." They all began laughing quietly to themselves and Marceline slipped out of her jacket.

Both of her friends eyes went straight to the fresh bruises on her arms. Bonnibel gave a little sad smile to no one in particular, her usual response when in front of other people, and Keila was her usual blunt self.

"Your dads a cunt," Her friend muttered through clenched teeth. "You should've followed up with the police."

"I know, you keep telling me." Marceline huffed. "I wouldn't be able to stay in the house by myself, though, I'd end up setting pasta on fire again. Up until the start of this year the only person I could actually go live with was my mum. Who's dead."

"Move in with me," Keila whined. "It's no fun being in a flat with two guys. Boys smell."

"You can say that again," Bonnibel laughed, moving her hand from Marceline's thigh. "And if you move in with Keila you'd live closer to me. I think it's a win win situation for us all."

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed this revival chapter. More to come soon, promise. As for Educational I'm 3k words in and am taking my time writing it. Gotta make sure it isn't rushed.**

 **Please leave a kind review!**


	30. Cakes

**A/N: A little bit of a flashback chapter. Fluffy, I promise.**

* * *

Her mother had always cooked the best meals. Marceline had never even seen Hudson do anything around the kitchen, the stove was barely used and the oven was only really opened when Marceline and Bonnibel were baking cakes or cooking together.

Gwen was the chef of the relationship, then. What she did for work was a hazy memory, maybe something around a store? Marceline couldn't really picture her mother doing anything except look after her and play the piano gracefully. And cook.

When she was eight she saw her brother helping to bake a cake, overdoing it with the frosting and getting to lick the spoon afterwards. Marceline had been grounded for something, her fathers orders, and was watching quietly from the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you think it should say on it?" Their mother asked, in that wondrous voice that parents had when their kid was doing something for the first time.

"Marshall," Her brother said, toothy grin on his face. "Because it's my cake."

Their mother held him up, allowed him to misspell and make a mess of his name with icing, praised him afterwards.

After that, Marceline wasn't too fond of cakes.

It was only when Bonnibel came into her life that Marceline properly developed a sweet tooth. Cakes and buns and brownies galore. She assumed that Bonnibel knew why Marceline got a little giddy whenever one of them brought up baking whenever one of them was staying over at the others house for the night, put together the pieces of Marceline asking her if she could eat the leftovers in the bowl and pouting whenever they didn't have the ingredients.

"You get very childlike when we bake, Marceline." Bonnibel says at one point in their relationship. Maybe four months into their friendship? Marceline stiffens and stops stirring the mix in the bowl, freezes in place almost automatically.

"Sorry," Comes out of her mouth, instead of what she wants to say which is 'I love baking and I never did it as a kid,'. "I guess I'll have to stop drinking energy drinks before we do, then." Marceline jokes nervously. It's a long shot, she barely ever goes out to buy energy drinks.

Bonnibel just smiles crookedly, a knowing glint in her eyes that saddens both of them, and shakes her head. "Of course, those things are terrible for you."

Marceline doesn't really stop being childish after that encounter. Not because Bonnibel had texted her afterwards, but because Marceline hadn't had the best childhood, so she really was experiencing all these things for the first time. The best bit was that Bonnibel understood, appreciated her, let her be a little bit silly at times. Even if her brain didn't think so.


	31. I swear that I'd like to change

"This is going to hurt a little bit," Bonnibel says, the first time she finds Marceline in her room with a bloodied wrist. There's a warm damp cloth in her hand, and Marceline wishes she was dead. There's a short sting at first, and Marceline grits her teeth and hisses at the pressure on her open wounds. "It'll help with the bleeding, then we can clean you up and get some bandages on you. Do you have any bandages?"

Marceline shakes her head no and stares at her floor through barely contained tears.

Bonnibel smiles. "That's fine, I have some in my bag."

 _Of course she does, Bonnibel Bubblegum, always so prepared._

With one hand still securing the cloth on her friends wrist, Bonnibel turns to begin searching through her school bag. They were _supposed_ to be studying.

Marceline swallowed around her unusually raw throat. "No ones ever cared," She whispered, voice hoarse from the amount of crying she'd been doing. "To help me after, I mean."

"Well I care, so call me if you need me okay?" Bonnibel retrieved the bandages from her bag, turning to find Marceline with her hand over her mouth and tears falling freely to her floor. The cloth was removed.

"C'mon, honey, lets get you into the bathroom to clean up this mess. Yeah?" Bonnibel waited patiently and understandingly for Marceline's nod four minutes later.

Once inside the bathroom across the hall from her room, Marceline watched as Bonnie turned the tap on and waited for a good temperature. _You really don't deserve her, idiot._

"Lukewarm," Bonnibel smiled, holding her palm out for Marceline to put her hand in. She did so tentatively, cautious as to not bloody her friends hand.

"Fuck-," The stinging pain came back the moment the water hit her wrist, but with Bonnibel's careful touch she managed to bear through it and watched as her friend used the cloth to gently pat around her deep cuts.

"I know it hurts," Bonnibel took note of Marceline's pained expression. "But cleaning them up now will be so much more beneficial to you than doing it later."

"I trust you," Marceline replied, keeping her eyes fixed on the water.

The moment she began getting used to the pain, Bonnibel turned off the water and dabbed at her wrist with another dry cloth. Then came the bandages.

"They're gonna be a little tight at first, but they won't be too uncomfortable." Bonnibel explained as she began wrapping them around her friends wrist. They were soft and oddly stretchy, but Marceline paid more attention to the way Bonnibel's tongue poked out of her mouth as she concentrated. "All done, do you want to watch a movie instead of studying?"

Marceline's brows raised. She wasn't expecting Bonnibel to stay with her, maybe just tell her that she was stupid and leave.

"What movie?" Marceline asked finally, voice still broken and small. That's just how she felt, really.

"You pick, I trust you to make a good decision,"


	32. She's The Fire In The Sin

**A/N: pre-relationship (as was the last one), heavy/triggering. NSFW.**

* * *

 _Eighteen days on holiday with Bonnibel_ _'s family_ _. You can_ _'t last eighteen days. You think you're strong enough? Idiot. You've barely lasted three as it is, and you're already contemplating taking something sharp from the kitchen._

Marceline swallowed a little too harshly, glancing everywhere _but_ at the girl beside her. Bonnibel was fast asleep, her mouth open adorably as she let out soft noises in her dreams, Marceline had already tried to take her mind off of _things_ by counting her freckles.

 _You know drugs aren't a sure way to die, Marceline. Get a knife, one of those big ones with the black handles. The pretty shiny ones. Take it to your throat, freak, slit it open and-,_

Marceline wasn't aware she'd sat up on the edge of the bed until Bonnibel's hand reached out for her sleeve. She swallowed again.

"Marcy, come cuddle," There was a beat of silence. "Don't do whatever you're thinking about doing. I know that look."

Marceline let out a shuddering breath. "I don't… I don't like my brain, it sucks." She whimpered, fixating her eyes on the door. _It doesn't even have to be a knife, you could get a razor or a pair of scissors. Stab, stab, stab. That's all you'll ever need, Marceline. End it._

"I like your brain," Bonnibel replied. There was shuffling from behind Marceline as her friend sat up and scooted closer, placing her hand on one of her shoulder blades. Her sleeve was still being bunched up, too. "I like the music it creates, I like the way you view the world differently than most people. It's refreshing. You don't hate your brain, your brain hates you. _That_ sucks because you're one of the best people I think I'll ever have the pleasure of meeting."

 _She's lying to you, do you really believe a word she's saying?_ ** _Yes._**

Marceline blinked away her tears and glanced back at Bonnibel, now smiling and rubbing her upper back. The grip on her sleeve slackened, but the weight of her hand was still there. It was oddly comforting in a way.

"I know this is selfish of me, but please try not to let your brain take away my favourite person. You mean a lot to me, and I don't want to wake up one day and not have someone to watch movies with or go take on cute platonic dates." Bonnibel managed to get Marceline to lay her head back down against the pillow, eyes suddenly heavy with sleep once more.

 _Platonic. Fuck. Fuck, she'll only ever see you as a friend. You're nothing to her. You don't mean nearly as much to her as she does to you._

"I'll try," Marceline rasped. "I'll my try my damn hardest."

 _Ten days left. You've spent eight days in a bed with her, wanting nothing more than to curl up and fucking die, and this is what you've shrivelled up into?_ Marceline's lips parted to let out a huff, fingers gliding ever so deliciously against her clit. The water from the shower hit her chest as she backed up against the tiled wall, hissing from the cold but then instantly moaning when she hit the right spot. _She can probably hear you, you fucking freak, if she finds out you're thinking of her spreading her legs for you then she'll-_

The very thought made Marceline's legs buckle under the weight of her arousal, and she found herself spreading her own thighs in wanting desire." _Bonnie-,_ " The name came out accidentally as a whine, a desperate, breathy whine that rumbled all the way from the back of throat. Marceline's fingers curled against her innermost wall.

If Bonnie _was_ in their room, she definitely could hear Marceline's lewd actions and moans, not that they were loud but because the walls were thin and Bonnibel had caught her singing in the shower on the second day. _Never again_.

" _F-Fuck,_ " She climaxed with another breathy whine, fingers pumping in and out as if she was a machine. The image of Bonnibel being the one she was exploring, the one who's walls were tightening around her three fingers, was burned into the very forefront of her mind.

 _She'll never forgive you if she overheard, which she did. She's going to hate you. She's never going to fucking have sex with you, idiot. Who the fuck gave you that idea?_

As if the entire world was against her, the moment Marceline stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel and holding her clothes tightly, Bonnibel was exciting their shared bedroom.

"Good shower?" _What?_

Despite Bonnibel's very obvious obliviousness, Marceline's face turned scarlet. "W-Water went off," She lied. "What're you doing?"

Bonnibel's eyebrow arched. "I'm going swimming," She gestured to her bathing costume clad body and _oh_ Marceline needed to shower once more as soon as possible. "It's holiday tradition to at least go swimming once. You coming?" _Poor choice of words_.

"I guess? I'll need to get changed, though." As Marceline closed the door to their room behind her, she missed the blush that flooded Bonnie's face.


End file.
